


Mother Knows Best

by indigo_inks



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Frottage, Mother/Son Incest, Rough Sex, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-18 16:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20641982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigo_inks/pseuds/indigo_inks
Summary: Leia knows what her son needs.





	Mother Knows Best

**Author's Note:**

  * For [outruntheavalanche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outruntheavalanche/gifts).

She wakes with her naked son already in bed beside her.

“Mom?”

“What is it, sweetie?” Leia asks.

“I-I…I don’t…” Ben stammers, sounding vulnerable and so terribly, achingly _young_, “Mom, I _need_—”

His emotions are making the Force seem to boil, red-orange and angry. He’s upset. She doesn’t know the reason, and he’s too distressed to articulate himself clearly enough to explain it. There may not, in fact, _be_ an actual reason; she never can know for certain with Ben.

What she does know, however, learnt the hard way from painful experience, is that Ben’s distress is very dangerous – dangerous to her, dangerous to himself, and dangerous to everyone around them.

“Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk. Come here,” Leia murmurs as she reaches out to embrace him.

Ben emits a low, animal sob of relief into her collarbone as she draws him in close. His face is damp with tears and snot. She coos and strokes his soft, dark hair. He was a late bloomer, but he started his growth spurt this past year, and her son, so recently short and fragile, has become so suddenly long and lanky. She imagines that he’ll broaden and fill out eventually, but for now, he’s all arms and legs and adolescent awkwardness as he covers her body with his.

They don’t discuss it. They never have, and as far as Leia is concerned, they never will. She’s Ben’s mother; she knows what he needs.

Ben knows what he needs as well. He rears back, upright, straddling her hips. Then he reaches out and grabs the flimsy fabric of her nightgown, tearing it open from throat to groin and baring her breasts (which fed him), her belly (which carried him), the tangled nest of hair concealing her pubis…

…which birthed and _conceived_ him.

He has no gentleness, no finesse, because he’s never made love to anyone. He doesn’t make love to her, either. Instead, Ben simply falls back down on top of her, flesh meeting flesh with a ringing _thwap_, fingers digging into her shoulders roughly as he begins to rock against her. She feels him stiffening, lengthening, thick as a rod of durasteel between them. He grunts. She sighs and kneads the knotted muscles in his back. He rocks harder and faster, heaving, shaking the bed with each wild thrust, heedless of his own strength – she will wear the bruises tomorrow.

It won’t last; it can’t last. Neither of them want it to last. Ben pushes himself to climax, his mind a cacophonous clash, his emotions a supernova bright burst of white in the Force. He spills himself against Leia, seizing and shuddering and arching his spine. He lays semen in propulsive lines that coat her nipples, her chin, and her cheeks.

“Mom… _Mom…!_” Ben shouts.

Afterwards, she can never remember if the shout comes from his lips or just passes directly into her mind.

But in the silence which follows, a blissful calm descends upon them both. Leia brushes a stray lock of Ben’s hair away from his face and tucks it behind his ear. Ah, she loves him so much! Ben falls asleep, still dead weight on top of her. Leia does not try to move, nor does she use the Force to confirm that she has given her son what he needs.

She knows that she has already.

Yes, this is what he _needs_, and Leia will give it to Ben for as long as he continues to need it. She is his mother; it is not for the rest of the galaxy to judge.


End file.
